


Everything Goes Away

by Taimat



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Banishment, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Gen, Happy Ending, Pre-Slash, Stripper!Loki, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 20:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16103024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taimat/pseuds/Taimat
Summary: And it cut me sharpHearing you'd gone awayBut everything goes awayYeah everything goes away~~~~~~~Attention.He craves it. Needs it. And now, he has it. Every single eye in the room on him. The center of everyone’s focus.They need him, too. They burn for him. And Loki adores it.





	Everything Goes Away

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, all I wanted to do was write stripper!Loki based on this tweet:
> 
> https://twitter.com/hiddlestomas/status/1044221853064220672?s=21
> 
> But then it had to go and develop feelings and stuff and completely ran away with me. I might write more of this, depending upon reception! I just needed to get all this out ASAP.

The bass is particularly heavy tonight.

 

Loki purrs his appreciation and drops his head back, hips swaying, the denims he’s wearing riding low where they’re already unbuttoned. The lights glare into his eyes, even through his closed lids, and Loki leans into them, knowing they’re glinting off the slight sheen of sweat that already adorns him.

 

Slowly, he sinks to his knees, gliding down the pole. Legs spread, he palms himself teasingly through the fabric.

 

The accompanying cheers are music to his ears.

 

One palm slides up his belly, teasing at the firm muscles there, and another cheer erupts at the reveal of skin as Loki’s hand climbs higher. He grins and licks his lips before peeling the whole top off, to the tumultuous joy of the crowd.

 

Attention.

 

He craves it.  _ Needs _ it. And now, he has it. Every single eye in the room on him. The center of everyone’s focus.

 

They need him, too. They  _ burn _ for him. And Loki adores it.

 

Throwing the shirt behind him, Loki arches again for the crowd before hauling himself up onto the pole, perching on it before letting himself drop backward and upside-down in an impressive display of strength. He lets one leg down slowly, touching the stage, but keeps the other high in a vertical split, arms bracing himself against the pole as his torso shifts. It would be plenty difficult for a human to do, but for a god?

 

It’s nothing.

 

He’s all long limbs and smooth lines, the movements of his body a sight to behold, and he  _ knows _ it.

 

Loki brings his other leg down in something of a fan kick as he twists, wrapping himself around the pole and sinking to the floor again.

 

The music scratches, and there’s an expectant pause during which one could hear a pin drop.

 

Loki gives a breathy moan.

 

The crowd roars, and the music starts up once more, and then Loki’s back on his feet, swaying again to the rhythm that pounds through his veins.

 

The next pause is much less planned.

 

There’s a crack of lightning close by, followed by a deep boom of thunder, and Loki pauses momentarily out of surprise. But then he huffs, tosses his hair — it’s getting long, now — and keeps right on dancing.

 

Next, there’s a scuffle outside; Loki can hear it even over the music. He starts calculating the possibilities and outcomes in his head, even as the door to the club is thrown wide open.

 

“Loki!” a rough voice bellows.

 

In reply, Loki glides smoothly up the pole, then stands in the middle of the stage, one hip cocked. Waiting.

 

His oaf of a brother strides forward, throwing off bouncers as he goes, and were it not for the fact that Loki is completely calm, if irritated, he gets the feeling that there would be a lot more chaos.

 

But he decides not to scratch that particular itch. He’s rather fond of this job, and he’ll do what he can to save it.

 

He spares a glance at Thor’s wet boots and sighs, dodging puddles with his own bare feet as he steps forward carefully and throws his arms around Thor’s shoulders.

 

Immediately, a buzz goes through the crowd. Loki is not known for being physically affectionate with his fans, much less being so  _ forward _ .

 

“If you want to talk to me,” he begins speaking quietly and rapidly, hoping Thor can keep up with him, “You’re going to pick me up and carry me backstage. Then we can talk.”

 

“What?” growls Thor.

 

Making the decision for him, Loki rolls his eyes and leaps, strong legs wrapping high around Thor’s waist. The crowd nearly shrieks in response, unable to believe what it’s seeing. Their prince, Loki, in the arms of another man.

 

An admittedly handsome man, if Loki is completely honest with himself, though he’d never stroke his brother’s ego like that.

 

“Start walking, you idiot,” he whispers, and Thor finally gets the idea.

 

Blowing a kiss toward the audience, who are ever-receptive, Loki lets Thor carry him backstage, ending his show early, but hopefully not scarring his reputation too much.

 

Scarcely has the curtain closed behind them, than Loki is squirming in Thor’s hold, forcing himself down. He stomps angrily back to his dressing room, hoping Thor at least has enough sense to follow.

 

“Loki…” Thor starts again, and Loki shoves open the door to his room.

 

There’s the thudding of boots, and then a large, fit man comes skidding down the hallway toward them.

 

“Laurence!” Loki calls, “Wait, wait, it’s fine!”

 

Laurence stops, but looks enormously unimpressed. Loki can’t really blame him. The man’s been working here for years and has presumably seen all manner of things go down.

 

Loki sighs. “Laurence, this is my idiot of a brother, Thor.”

 

“I—“ Thor starts, but Loki cuts him off.

 

“And Thor, this is Laurence.”

 

Laurence scowls at Thor. “Yeah, I know you, hero boy. What’re you here harassing my workers for?”

 

Before Thor can jump in again, Loki replies, “He’s just here to talk. I’m so sorry for ending the evening like this, Laurence.”

 

“You put on a good show, buddy. It’s all good. Just lemme know if you need help, hey?”

 

Loki is already trying to shove Thor into his dressing room, despite the brute’s attempt to continue talking to his boss.

 

“Yes, Laurence, will do! Again, my apologies!” He manages to get the door shut behind him before whirling on Thor. “What in Hel is wrong with you?” he hisses.

 

“With me?” Thor roars. “What are you  _ doing _ here, Loki?”

 

“I am trying to earn an honest wage, which is made incredibly difficult by your stomping around here like a giant buffoon!” Loki snarls and begins sifting through his wardrobe for something suitable to wear home. “You’re lucky I managed to save the show at the end, or I’d probably be out of a job, no matter how much Laurence loves me.”

 

Thor’s nostrils flare. “So this is what you’ve been doing with your time away. Putting yourself on display like this, like some kind of—“

 

Loki spins to face him, fire in his eyes. “Don’t even say it,” he spits, voice dangerously low. “Even for you, that’s low.” He looks down his nose at his brother. “And even if I were, what then? It’s my body and my choice. You’ve no say in the matter. Just like you’ve no say in  _ this. _ Why in the  _ fuck _ are you here, Thor?” A bit of Midgardian slips into his speech, but Loki can’t be bothered to care. This is his life Thor is destroying. He’s allowed to be angry.

 

“I…” Thor suddenly shrinks in on himself, looking unsure. “I missed you.”

 

Loki restrains himself from howling in laughter. “That’s rich. You  _ missed _ me.”

 

“Brother, I have been searching—“

 

“Not hard enough, apparently!” Loki snipes. “I’ve been here for months. Months! While you’ve been traipsing about with your mighty Avengers, I’ve been building a life for myself! And now you’ve come to, what, ruin what little I have?”

 

“Loki, when your banishment—“

 

Loki levels such a glare at him that it actually stops Thor mid-sentence.

 

“I’ve come to take you home, brother.”

 

“Home?” Loki growls. “I  _ am  _ home, Thor. Or I will be, as soon as I can get you to bugger off.”

 

“But Loki, you are missed!”

 

Loki slams the wardrobe shut, tugging on a button down shirt over his show jeans. It’ll have to do, for tonight. He’s not getting naked with Thor in the room. “By whom, Thor? By you? By your— By your father?”

 

Thor sighs. “Mother misses you, too.”

 

That takes a little bit of wind out of Loki’s sails. “Yes. Well. It can’t be helped, can it.” It’s not a question.

 

“Brother, please come home with me,” Thor tries again.

 

“Why, so I can be thrown out again the next time  _ father _ has a fit? No. I’m better off here.” He never thought he’d be saying those words, but he was surprised to find that they were true.

 

When he’d first arrived in Midgard, penniless and alone, it was to destruction. Destruction that he’d help cause, to be fair. Initially, he’d thought that simply helping the mortals to set things to rights would be enough to commute his sentence, but time had passed with no respite, and Loki found himself sinking into despair.

 

Left with no magic, no assets, and not even a place to live, he’d been forced to start carving out a life for himself in New York. Under the newly-christened Avengers Tower, no less.

 

It had taken time, yes, but Loki knew what his assets were, and one of them was undoubtedly his good looks. Getting a job here had been a blessing, as not only did it provide him with money for rent, but it gave him a chance to practically bathe in adoration that he’d never had, before.

 

And he  _ liked  _ it.

 

But back to the matter at hand…

 

“Loki, brother, at least let me help.”

 

“What, Thor? How could you possibly help me?” Loki is getting a headache, and all he really wants is to be home with a cup of tea, cuddling into his blankets.

 

Thor holds out a hand. In his palm is a ring. Simple and golden, unassuming other than the power Loki can feel pulsing within it. He’s drawn to it despite himself, and he’s already reaching out when he freezes, suspicious.

 

“What is this, Thor?”

 

“A gift,” his brother offers. “I would at least see your magic restored, Loki.”

 

“At what price?” Loki’s eyes are already narrowing.

 

“None.”

 

Loki searches his brother’s face, but he finds no betrayal there, and he doubts that this relatively short time away has somehow made Thor a passable liar. Greedily, he snatches the ring from Thor’s hand, but he spends another short while just staring at it. Is he really ready for everything to change again?

 

But when has he ever not taken every advantage available to him?

 

With a huff, Loki puts it on, and immediately, he feels a blossoming within himself.  _ Seidr _ fills him up, traveling into every crack and crevice that he hadn’t even known was empty, prompting a full-body shudder.

 

Well, this would certainly make his daily life easier.

 

“Loki?” Thor tries. “Are you well?”

 

Loki hums and raises his hand, toying with the ring. He must know… He must know under what conditions…

 

He slips it off, but he feels no resultant emptiness. Just the same, healthy thrum inside him.

 

He is whole, again.

 

With a sigh, he sags back against his wardrobe. Everything is different, now.

 

But then, part of him reasons, does it have to be? He finally has people in his life who respect him. A job he’s good at. He isn’t taken for granted, anymore. He might have no family, but he has a simple, stable life. Does he really have to give it up?

 

“...and get you to come home,” Thor is saying.

 

Loki can’t be bothered to ask him to repeat himself.

 

He’s not going back. He thinks...he thinks he might have a chance at happiness, here. And why not take it? After all he’s been through, does not even he deserve something good? No one in Asgard wants him, but here…

 

“I’m not coming back, Thor.”

 

“What?”

 

“I finally have something for myself, here. Something that’s mine. I won’t have you taking it away from me so easily.”

 

“But don’t you want—“

 

“What I  _ want,  _ Thor, is to be left in peace!” Loki snaps.

 

Thor pauses, clearly thinking this over.

 

Loki is so frustrated. Understandably so, he feels. In less than an hour, his life has been turned upside down again. He’s happy to have his magic, of course, but he…

 

Norns, why was this so difficult?

 

“I’m going home,” he murmurs. “To my apartment. I’m not going back with you.”

 

Thor sighs. “All right.” There’s resignation in his voice, and it’s odd for Loki to hear. Thor doesn’t usually give up so easily.

 

“But…”

 

Ah, here it was.

 

“...can I walk you home?”

 

Loki’s struck dumb by the request. “Why?”

 

“Because I missed you,” Thor offers.

 

“What, are your Avengers not good enough company, anymore?”

 

“They’re not the same as you, Loki. They can’t take your place.”

 

There’s a pause. “Yes. Well, that should be obvious,” Loki sniffs.

 

“Is that a yes?” Thor presses, ever stubborn.

 

Loki huffs. “Yes, fine, you great oaf. You can walk me home.”

 

He slides into his trainers and grabs his jacket from the chair he’d thrown it onto, slipping his wallet and keys back into his pockets. It’s a tight fit, but he manages.

 

Thor waits patiently, and when Loki is finally ready to go, they both seem a little at a loss for words.

 

“Right.” Loki clears his throat. “Out the back entrance, then.”

 

He brushes by Thor on his way out, checking that the coast is clear before ushering his brother forward, and then the door is closed and they’re walking, shoulder to shoulder, down the hallway.

 

It’s strange, Loki thinks, to walk with his brother once more, especially after so much has changed. Princes they were, and princes they still are, he supposes. But their lives are much different. They can’t go back to the way things used to be, Loki knows this. And to be honest, he’s not sure he would want that, even if it were possible.

 

The back door clicks shut behind them, and they’re out on the pavement. Thor follows along silently at his side. It’s nearly comfortable, loath as Loki is to admit it. Thor must have gained some discretion in their time apart, because he’s not prattling on incessantly as he used to. Around them, the sounds of the city press in close. Loki’s eyes dart from side to side out of habit, checking his own safety, and they disappear into the crowds easily enough.

 

His place isn’t far. It also isn’t much, and Loki would rather not take Thor up into it. It’s also his, and only his. Thor doesn’t  _ deserve  _ to be there, Loki reasons.

 

“So you truly intend to stay here, then?” Thor asks, finally.

 

“Yes,” Loki answers. “Maybe not forever, but at least for a time.”

 

“And there’s nothing that could change your mind?”

 

“No, Thor.”

 

“I see.”

 

They fall quiet again, and Loki doesn’t think much of it. It’s not like he has to entertain Thor. It was his idiot brother’s idea to come with him in the first place.

 

And then, the most curious thing happens.

 

Thor takes his hand.

 

Loki is so surprised that he nearly stops walking, just barely catching himself.

 

They haven’t done this since they were small children, back when such a thing meant security, meant affection, meant love.

 

But now? What does it mean, now?

 

Loki blinks down at their hands, then over at Thor, who only smiles at him and continues to keep pace at his side. Loki shakes his head, mind spinning. This is...unexpected. But then, he adds, it’s also not unpleasant.

 

Despite his initial reaction, Loki doesn’t let go, and he can practically feel Thor’s satisfaction rolling off in waves. He sighs.

 

“Say it,” Loki growls.

 

“Say what?” Thor sounds innocent enough, but Loki presses on.

 

“Say whatever it is you’re intending to. Have at it.”

 

“Thank you,” is all Thor replies with, along with a squeeze of his hand.

 

Loki puffs out his cheeks and walks faster, though he doesn’t let go.

 

Stupid Thor. Stupid sentiment. Stupid holding hands.

 

When they finally reach his apartment, Loki comes to a dead stop. Thor nearly trips over himself in surprise, and Loki takes a little pleasure in that.

 

“Brother?”

 

“We’re here, Thor. This is where I live.”

 

Thor shifts. “Can I...come up?”

 

“No,” Loki says instantly.

 

“Can I call on you again?” Thor presses.

 

And Loki had not been expecting this. He swallows. “I...I suppose.” He finds himself agreeing before he’s even aware he’s doing it.

 

But then Thor beams like the sun and leans in close.

 

Loki’s eyes open wide.

 

Thor presses the lightest of kisses to the corner of his mouth, then draws back, squeezing Loki’s hand again.

 

Loki is frozen in shock.

 

“I really did miss you, brother.”

 

And then Thor is pulling Mjölnir free and whirling it around, letting go of Loki’s hand as he soars off into the night sky, and Loki is left standing at the walkup to his apartment, arm outstretched, staring upward in confusion.

 

He brings that same hand to his lips, feeling the tremble in his fingers, and shivers. Then smiles.

 

Loki punches in the code to the front door and walks up the stairs to his apartment, pulling his keys free as he goes. It’s been a long night, and he’s so very tired.

 

But he’s humming.

 

And he hasn’t stopped smiling.


End file.
